


oneiric

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:59:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>luke has a dream; han notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oneiric

**Author's Note:**

> brief descriptions of violence, shows of vague(ly unfettered) intimacy, big spoilers for TFA.

pandemonium, he thinks.

the air is salty: sticky moisture brittle like sand on skin. the vision is familiar, an all too obvious reality summoned from the depths of his memory. dagobah, bespin, tatooine. luke knows what this means, knows he needs to stay, to wait. 

han’s body crumples. the open area swallows the snap-hiss of the lightsaber, its color a faint glimmer from above. looking down, his thoughts follow some unidentified, putrid smell and his eyes trail the gentle hum of red. luke feels an abrupt jolt as the saber moves in, up, and han’s body flinches like fleshy gelatin. luke opens his mouth, but han’s name disappears like a failed aria, a distant echo. he looks past him and somehow han is older, softer, staring with some shadowy peace lost under his eyes.

far away he senses leia. he slackens his grip on the saber and falls back into her, but she doesn’t respond, her calls instead moving through him like ghostly smoke. frantically, he reaches out to her with the force, feigning some soothing presence, desperate for her to know she isn’t alone. leia calls for him: there’s sadness beneath resolve, betrayal like an ever-pinching nerve beneath old rage. she’s lost, he realizes. they both are, and han is falling beneath them. 

another presence mixed with brine. it moves with the hazy grey skirting rocky archipelagos. leia is even farther now; han, luke suspects, is gone for good. he feels himself fading, immobilized and afraid and curious, the needling temptation of hope hovering behind him. he turns slowly and then --

luke exhales. his eyes open slowly as he glances over his body sprawled on some tattered mat. his head aches and his mouth is parched, knuckles bloody and grit-lined. unconsciously, he rubs his palm against his chin: smooth, for the most part. he holds his position there and looks around, not quite processing his surroundings, not quite putting words to images.

“endor,” he decides finally, his voice gravelly and hoarse to his own ears. “i’m still on endor.”

luke closes his eyes and allows the force to wash over him. his body relaxes and the present seems clearer: the battle, the celebration, the private funeral for vader.

“luke?”

luke tries not to smile, his relief a dense pocket nestled inside him. it’s han, alive.

“you all right, kid?”

“yes,” he says. “where’s leia?”

han jerks his head behind him and luke peers over. her back is to them, rising and falling in sleepy rhythm. luke nods.

“you sure you’re all right?”

“i’m fine, bad dream s’all.”

han cocks an eyebrow at him and props himself on an elbow. 

“just a bad dream, or another vision?”

their eyes meet and luke stops, his insides cold and his fingertips tingling.

“not a vision,” luke reassures him. "really, han. i'm fine."

han looks at him skeptically, but concedes with a shrug, yielding instead to exhaustion. luke watches in his periphery as han falls asleep, his own thoughts blank and flurried.

“it’s just a dream,” he says under his breath. a dream created by the emotions of the previous day.

luke lies down again, his eyes fixed on the thatched roof. gently, he reaches to leia with the force and tracks their breathing in reference to one another. they’re together -- finally. they need each other more now than before, to understand the force through one another, to shoulder their legacy. leia, he knows, is as strong as he is.

but luke loses the thought to the heavy repetition in his mind. beside him, han shifts in his sleep, his arm finding luke’s torso to give his hip a gentle squeeze. a sleep-addled assurance. luke tries not to flinch. 

not a vision, he repeats more forcibly now. not a vision, not a vision, not a vision.

**Author's Note:**

> mm. my theories re: TFA and luke's knowledge about the unfolding events are, uh, fairly complicated and could fill a book, probably? definitely okay with talking about them in the comments, or, whatever.


End file.
